


just know you’re not alone (we’re gonna make this place our home)

by icanthelpbut_love_you



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Apartment hunting, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, POV Alec Lightwood, slight AU, watch out: they're adorably domestic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-27 02:30:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18295043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icanthelpbut_love_you/pseuds/icanthelpbut_love_you
Summary: Such a small detail, but instantly he can imagine himself tangled up with Magnus in that hammock in the evenings, sipping whatever obscure drink Magnus has found for him to sample this time, half-heartedly scolding Magnus for his blatant amusement when Alec inevitably still has to stifle a wince at the taste of alcohol, sharing that blanket as they whisper and laugh. He can imagine them building a life here. Together.Alec and Magnus go apartment hunting. It's a little more emotional than either of them anticipated.





	just know you’re not alone (we’re gonna make this place our home)

**Author's Note:**

> So we’re just gonna ignore the whole angst thing for a hot second ok (coma? what coma?).  
> This is an obligatory post-3x15 apartment hunting fic, because it’s literally the most adorable thing I can imagine (and god knows we need it right now).
> 
> Title is from ‘Home’ by Phillip Phillips

“C’mon Magnus, how many apartments are we up to now?” Alec whines, stepping out from the portal and concentrating on not tripping as he does so. No matter how many times they flit from city to city this way, he’s pretty sure he’ll never get fully used to portal travel and the complete lack of coordination he feels during the first few seconds back on steady ground. He watches Magnus pause as he approaches the door, peering sideways at Alec to throw him a fondly exasperated look.

“Oh hush, Alexander. I’d like to remind you that this was in fact your idea.”

Alec is about to quip that while yes, it most certainly was his idea, he didn’t realise it would involve this many hours and this many apartments and this much inane _small talk_ with complete strangers. Quite frankly the sheer amount of unwelcome socialisation has him exhausted. The words are already forming mischievously on his lips, but Magnus doesn’t give him the chance to get them out.

“Besides,” he continues, “It’s our home. I want it to be perfect.”

Playful jibes die in his throat. Really, how is Alec supposed to respond to that? The way Magnus is looking at him, imploring gaze at odds with his carefully-maintained upbeat tone, makes something deep inside Alec turn soft and molten. A few months ago he wouldn’t have blinked at Magnus’ show of confidence, but by now he can recognise that that’s exactly what it is: a show. Sure, any hint of vulnerability in his expression is carefully shielded, but even if Alec couldn’t clearly spot the subtle differences between Magnus when he’s deflecting and Magnus when he’s genuinely being flippant, the way his fingers subconsciously brush against his ear cuff (a silver spiral today that catches the light when he moves and has Alec constantly losing his train of thought) would be a dead give-away of his insecurity.

Alec gets it. By the angel, he does. Magnus’ evident self-consciousness mirrors what Alec felt broaching for the second time the topic of moving in: a bone deep fear of rejection that is definitely out-of-proportionate for the circumstances but feels so very warranted at the time. Part of it probably stems from the slight role-reversal they’ve got going on here – heartfelt declarations like this are undeniably Alec’s territory. Magnus is more one for pretty dressings wrapping around and around his words until their actual meaning is sufficiently obscured. At the very least, he tends to deflect with witty retorts or blatant flirtation. So no matter how much he trusts Alec, displaying his true thoughts so bluntly is bound to make him feel a little apprehensive. 

But more than that, of the two of them Magnus is just a lot more cautious when it comes to big steps like this in their relationship. One of the unavoidable side-effects of past heartbreak, Alec supposes, of past lovers who felt things were moving too fast or spooked in the face of what they saw as Magnus being clingy and overly-invested. It’s completely unfathomable to Alec. Although, that could just be because he’s equally clingy and overly-invested.

He can’t even dream of being able to string together the right words to explain any of this to Magnus. To make him understand that Alec honestly would be more than content living in one of New York’s many potholes as long as they’re together.

He’s prevented from even trying when the door swings open just as Magnus reaches out to knock. Wards, Alec assumes. A warlock realtor this time. Or possibly a mundane with keen hearing and a peephole in the door – they’ve encountered both throughout their search thus far. He shelves his clamouring thoughts even as they demand to be released, settling for the moment for intertwining his fingers with Magnus’ as they are ushered in, trying to convey the ridiculous depth of everything he’s feeling with a gentle squeeze and receiving a softly adoring look from Magnus in return.

Then a switch flips and Magnus is back in work mode. As Magnus chats to the realtor, accepting the very blue and very complicated looking cocktail that has suddenly appeared in his hand (definitely a fellow warlock then), Alec takes the opportunity to survey the apartment. It’s spacious and high-ceilinged, open in a way that is similar to the loft but with a different enough layout that it’s not jarring. And apparently it has three bedrooms, he hears the realtor mention in the introductory spiel. The warm feeling radiates from his chest, surging up his spine.

They’d talked at length, before Magnus had even started booking private showings for apartments, about what they both wanted – other than Magnus’ stipulated walk-in closet, of course. One of the first things they’d agreed on was three bedrooms. Theirs (obviously), a guest room (for when Jace inevitably needs to crash) and... another room. For the future. That’s how Magnus had phrased it anyway, before trailing off uncertainly. Alec had only been able to nod, speechless, thoughts of future and family all bubbling to the surface in a shyly delighted smile he’d seen reflected on Magnus’ face. Even though Alec has to concede that it’s much too soon to be talking about that, it’s comforting to know that they’re on the same page. That Alec’s not the only one thinking way too far ahead.

It’s more than a little unfamiliar, actually being excited about the future.

He leaves Magnus to discuss business. Or more accurately to skirt around the actual reason they’re here despite it being fairly self-evident, because according to Magnus doing anything else would come across as far too eager and put them at a disadvantage during potential price negotiations. It’s kind of ridiculous, in Alec’s opinion. Then again, within five minutes of the first appointment Alec was already beyond done with the subtle roles and rituals that he was not aware came with scoping out a damn apartment. If he had thought warlocks were cryptic before… well, suffice to say he’s pretty sure he would have broken at least half a dozen unspoken protocols before he managed to get a single sentence out. But Magnus seems to be in his element, so Alec trusts him to know what he’s doing and more importantly to explain everything when they debrief afterwards. Tuning them out, he makes his way towards what is either a glass door or an excessively massive set of windows over to one side of the apartment. He pushes his hand against the glass and slides it open.

And steps out onto a balcony. It overlooks the city, the neon billboards and more muted streetlights creating multi-coloured halos that stand out dramatically against the navy backdrop of the early-evening sky, night having apparently fallen between the previous appointment and now without Alec noticing. The bustle of traffic is quiet from up here, a low familiar drone punctuated by an occasional aggressive beep. It is New York after all. A clear glass railing encircles the space, probably contributing to the overall impression of just how large the balcony is, lined with plants whose glossy heart-shaped leaves sway and dip in the gentle breeze. And, nestled in the corner, a luxurious-looking hammock. It’s decked out with pillows, a shimmering blanket draped over one side. Such a small detail, but instantly he can imagine himself tangled up with Magnus in the that hammock in the evenings, sipping whatever obscure drink Magnus has found for him to sample this time, half-heartedly scolding Magnus for his blatant amusement when Alec inevitably still has to stifle a wince at the taste of alcohol, sharing that blanket as they whisper and laugh. He can imagine them building a life here. Together.

He startles slightly when his boyfriend comes to stand beside him, having apparently finished the required discussion about the weather or the price of vampire fangs or whatever he’s substituted in this time to avoid mentioning the actual apartment. It’s easier than he ever thought it could be to drape an arm around Magnus’ waist as he presses himself against Alec’s side. Second-nature in a way he never thought he’d be able to have.

“Magnus,” he manages to whisper, the word coming out as more of an exhale as he realises he’s been holding his breath ever since he set foot out here. Even with Magnus’ grounding presence beside him, he’s practically vibrating with tension.

“I know,” Magnus affirms, sounding as awestruck as Alec feels, “Don’t tell Mr Hospitable over there, but... I think we can cancel the rest of our bookings.”

That surprises a huff of laughter from Alec, and he knows his boyfriend well enough to be grateful for his ability to flawlessly break the tension whenever he senses Alec getting overwhelmed.

“My god, how many of these things did you have planned?!”

Magnus has the grace to pretend to be sheepish, but the wicked glint in his eye gives him away and Alec only manages to keep up his accusatory tone for half the sentence before dissolving into giggles.

Grinning, Magnus leans further against his shoulder, looking out at the balcony. And Alec looks at him. It’s no longer surprising in the slightest, how Magnus captures his undivided attention no matter what else is around them. There’s nothing else Alec would rather look at anyway. Like this he can see the far-away expression on Magnus’ face, how his eyes are alight with a swirling mix of nostalgia and hope and just a little trepidation. Once again, Alec is lost in the enormity of how to convey the feelings and thoughts tripping over themselves inside his head, words utterly inadequate to explain the energy that buzzes under his skin when he thinks about starting the rest of his life with Magnus in this apartment. But despite that, this time he knows exactly how to reassure him.

“Magnus?” The warlock only hums in response to Alec’s murmur, so Alec turns to face him, cupping his jaw and stroking his thumb slowly over his cheek as he draws Magnus’ gaze up to meet his own, “It’s perfect.”

From way Magnus’ eyes widen slightly and flicker brilliant gold as he reaches for Alec, drawing him impossibly closer and burying his face in his neck, Alec’s pretty sure he got his point across.

**Author's Note:**

> Come and yell with me on tumblr (@icanthelpbut-love-you)


End file.
